Shards
by Verboten Byacolate
Summary: The cycle begins with simple, innocent affection. [SasuSaku] Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs.


Disclaimer; I do not own Naruto and am making no profit from this work of fanfiction.

**Shards**

Affection.

It starts out simple and clean. A fleeting flutter of the heart, for just a moment. A second. A slight blush, a pink tint that dashes from cheek to cheek, a path of truth is all that remains.

You ponder upon him; his black-as-night hair, his warm, childish obsidian eyes, more and more often. He sprints through your thoughts, laughing, teasing you with thoughts of what-would-happen-if. You smile when you hear his voice- his laughter. You memorize the sound, as if you know that one day, it will take a miracle to coax it out of him.

You are children in a world you cannot imagine past your little village.

You grow, day by day, and you watch him progress. You are not the only one to do so- in fact, you must come early just to obtain a place to just _watch_ him. But you don't care, as long as he is in your sight.

Your affection continues to grow as you don your navy-blue headband and start another day. You love that he is on your team.

-

-

Love.

One thing leads to another, and you fall. It's funny; though your affection has blossomed into something greater than you could imagine, you no longer blush. Not when he looks at you. Not even when he grabs your wrist (_it's so frightfully close to your hand_). Not even when he smiles. Because every moment you spend together is worth more to you than gold. You defend each other and you are proud. He is accomplished; you are progressing.

You finally realize how little your looks mean in this world- you are growing. Now he begins to acknowledge you. But just barely. Not enough for just anyone to notice. But you are not just anyone; you _know_ him. You know him more than any other girl could hope to.

It is your knowledge of him only makes you feel this... this fathomless entity inside your heart, soul, and mind. You feel more devotion than infatuation allows, and you can't help but feel him with you always.

You are constantly closer to him than you should be, but you can never be close enough. You glance at him.

Your heart skips a beat, and you know.

-

-

Hearts.

The most foolhardy and daring of all organs. The fabled holder of love. Yet, how can that be? All organs reach a capacity, as is the rule for most things. Love is supposed to be boundless, therefore, more than a mere heart can hold. The heart is already busy keeping the blood flowing through your veins to worry about your emotional ordeals. It doesn't care.

Hearts are measured in size by the amount of love one shows. So, by those standards, your heart would be too large for your chest. His heart, though, wouldn't even be able to complete its daily functions. They say he is incapable of love.

But, what does that have to do with his heart?

Hearts aren't meant to be downsized and measured. Hearts aren't focused, or even slightly concerned, about your loves and affairs. What benifit is it to them?

Yet, more than anything, your heart is one of the first things to signal the beginning of something more than friendship. They are probably the most important organ, but...

They are brittle things; more fragile than glass.

-

-

Glass.

It was just a thinner, frailer diamond, broken easily. So easily. When it fell upon the floor, it shattered. A million pieces of glinting crystal. A mistake led to a crack. A split second was all it took for the crack to run, like lightning, and break into thousands; millions; billions of shards, winking innocently back at you. But it only took a finger to touch; to pierce. Flesh would rip. You would bleed.

When he leaves, you are shattered like glass.

He left you to pick up the shards of your heart, one by one; a tedious task.

-

-

Shards.

Pieces of a shattered nothing. Barbed jolts and pricked skin. Lethal daggers of glinting matter. Everybody hears you scream, but they downsize the damage- the wound is not great enough.

They can't see, though. They can't see just how broken you are.

Cry your crystal tears- shards of diamonds. Break the mirrors that reflect the image of your numb, useless body. Pluck the glinting, jagged glass from the carpet.

You grip the shard tighter, and the flesh of your hand rips. Blood trickles down your bare, pale arm.

-

-

Bleed.

Thick, red liquid runs numerous lines along your body. But you are a shinobi and a medic. You are used to blood. The scarlet is ignored, and you force your hand not to shake. Your fingers clench tighter around the hilt of your katana. The sharp metal flashes in the light of the moon. 

It is the first time you have held a blade against him.

Thick puddles of dark red goop surround the both of you; the blood of your comrades and his. Everyone else is fighting their own battle, and it is a miracle that anyone has given _you_ the chance to fight him. You suppose the others are off being healed. It's your turn.

You take your stance, hardening your eyes to him- the one you loved, the one who broke you.

Bloodlust glints in his swirling crimson eyes, and in a second he is upon you.

-

-

Lust.

He is closer to you than he has ever been, and you feel no opposition. For once, openly, hungrily, he strikes you down with fierce, powerful bites and kisses. He has fought for you, fought beside you, fought against you, and is now fighting an inner battle with himself not to claim you right here amidst hundreds of vengeful warriors. Both of you are soaked in blood, but he is as enticing as ever, even more so, and he touches you, and you succumb to him.

You tell yourself to pull away from his arms; it must be a trick. A devious plan of some sort. Don't show him the girl he once knew, you think. Don't fall for him again. Don't be manipulated by his legs twisted around your thighs, his fingers knotted in your hair, his teeth grazing any skin he can touch. Don't let him kill you again.

_Don't let this be how it all ends!_

Everything branches from something. The cycle was a cruel, twisted, bittersweet, enticing one. Everything started with an innocent affection.

- ' -

- ' -

- ' -

_. : heavily broken _**FIN**_ easily shattered : ._

**I got inspiration from my clumsiness.-sweatdrop- I was getting myself some ice tea, turned to grab the pitcher, and I heard my glass explode on the floor. Mere inches from my foot. Miraculously, I did not get touched with any glass. And I never have. Meaning I have absolutely no clue how being stabbed with glass feels. **

**... However, I **_**do**_** know what it's like to step on a needle and have it lodged deep into my foot. It's extremely pleasant. But I digress. Basically, I wrote the Glass section, and had to build a oneshot around it. Like I do with many things. Sorry if you ever expected that I gave these things a lot of thought- I really don't. -sweatdrop- **

**Wah! Review and I give you all of my permission to own Naruto. That's right; my full permission! I'm sure Kishi-sensei's lawyers won't be a problem. After all; mah word ish LAW. **

**-Bya-chan**


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